Moondance of Stonewylde (4 page)

She nodded and turned around to face him, gazing into his deep grey eyes, drinking him in. She longed to stroke his face – or better still, to fling her arms around him and bury her face in his chest. But there were far too many people milling around the Green. She read the same longing in his eyes as he lifted a strand of her hair and felt the silkiness between his fingertips.

‘Come with me, Sylvie. Come with me under the yew tree where we were last night. We have unfinished business there, you and me. I want to kiss you again …’

‘You know we can’t, Yul,’ she said softly. ‘Last night I promised Magus that we’d stay apart. We must wait until all the fuss has died down. We can’t risk anything that’ll make him angry with you again.’

He groaned and looked away.

‘I can’t stand it, Sylvie. How can we stay apart? I think of you all the time, every second of the day and night. All I want is to be with you. It’s unbearable knowing you’re nearby but not being able to even talk properly.’

‘I know, but maybe—’

She stopped abruptly as the unmistakable silhouette of Magus appeared in the light flooding out from the Barn.

‘He’s looking for me, I’m sure – checking up that we’re not together. I’d better go back inside. Maybe I’ll see you at the beach? Everyone seems to go there in the afternoons.’

He shook his head sadly.

‘No, he’s ordered me to report to the Hall every day for extra work, the bastard! But soon, Sylvie. Next week at the Moon Fullness I’ll be waiting for you in the woods and we’ll go up to Hare Stone together. You can dance and—’

‘I’ll be there, I promise.’

She turned away reluctantly and made her way back towards the Barn, where Magus stood washed in light. His eyes narrowed
as she drew closer and his hand closed around her wrist, stopping her as she tried to brush past him.

‘I thought we had an agreement, Sylvie? Stay away from him and so will I. Surely you haven’t forgotten the consequences if you disobey me. Must I remind you? Or him?’

‘No, Magus,’ she said quickly. ‘Not at all.’

‘Good. Because you’re far too special for a lout like him.’

His fingers released their grip and stroked her arm idly.

‘You really are absolutely stunning in that dress, Sylvie. Now come back inside and dance with me again, my beautiful princess. I think we make rather a striking couple together, don’t you?’

Sylvie gazed out to sea but Holly and July were making so much noise over on the distant rock that she found it impossible to daydream. With a sigh she stood up.

‘Coming for a swim, Dawn?’

They went in together and Sylvie gasped as the icy water lapped around her shins. Dawn laughed at her dismay.

‘Freezing, isn’t it? And it’s warmer here in the lagoon than the open sea. But it’s only June, remember. By Lammas in August it’s lovely and warm. Come on – plunge in and swim fast. It’s the only way to warm up.’

She’d intended to splash around in the shallows, but Dawn headed straight out towards the rock and Sylvie felt obliged to follow. She was a little nervous going out of her depth as she wasn’t a strong swimmer, but was determined to be brave and join in. Soon Sylvie’s skin was tingling as they swam the short distance across the lagoon. She was reluctant, however, to reach the rock, dreading any confrontation with Holly today. It had been bad enough the night before, trying to avoid her gang and their snide remarks about her fairytale dress. But the girl with the bobbed hair and pretty feline features noticed them and called out.

‘Hi there! Come and join us! It’s so hot up here.’

Dawn swam towards the smaller rocks where it was possible to climb up onto the long, natural platform. Sylvie followed
unwillingly and sat dripping on the warm stone, hair in a wet tangle, hugging her knees shyly and feeling self-conscious in front of so many people. She hadn’t worn a swimsuit for years – her eczema had put paid to that – and had had to borrow one today. She hoped that maybe Holly would call a truce and was relieved that Buzz was away on holiday with his mother until Lammas. Holly was having a riotous time, messing about with July, Wren and Fennel and his gang of boys, diving into the sea and ducking each other.

Sylvie kept her eyes averted from their antics and looked instead at Rainbow, who was uncharacteristically quiet today. The younger girl was basking on the rock, her sea-blue eyes faraway. She wore a bikini which shone like silver scales in the bright sunlight, with a turquoise and silver sarong wrapped loosely around her waist. Although only thirteen, she had a lovely figure and her skin was already tanned soft apricot. Her hair was darker blond than most Hallfolk’s, the heavy waves glinting with natural highlights. She’d be stunning when she was older, Sylvie thought.

Curled on the rock, her long hair fanned out to dry, Rainbow stared dreamily up at the sky. Her fingers played with a seashell and her toes, their nails painted silver, wriggled amongst the strands of green seaweed clinging to the stone. She was completely unselfconscious and beautiful. Then she glanced across suddenly and caught Sylvie’s gaze.

‘Why are you staring at me, Sylvie? What is it?’

‘Nothing. I was just thinking that you look like a mermaid.’

Rainbow burst out laughing at this.

‘Do I really? How nice! I love mermaids.’

Wren overheard the conversation and flung herself wetly next to Rainbow.

‘A mermaid? They lure men away from their homes and into the depths of the watery underworld.’

Rainbow laughed again.

‘Well I won’t be doing any of that today. None of the boys here are worth the effort.’

She stood up in a fluid motion and dived gracefully into the lagoon, her silver scales sparkling in the sunlight. Sylvie shivered, and not only from the drops of water that splashed onto her hot skin. There was something about Rainbow – a kind of sinuous, calculated perfection – that disturbed her more than Holly’s blatant antagonism and bullying. She thought again of Yul, imagining him here, brown and lithe, putting all the pale Hallfolk boys in the shade. How he must be rejoicing today, free at last from his father’s reign of tyranny.

Whilst Sylvie and the Hallfolk youngsters swam and sunbathed, Yul continued with the seemingly endless chores that Martin had lined up for him. After the pans in the scullery had been dealt with to Marigold’s satisfaction, Yul was sent across to the stables. Tom was pleased to see him and smiled his welcome at the tousle-haired boy.

‘I were going to clap you on the back, son, but I weren’t sure if ‘twas still painful.’

Yul looked up at the old ostler sharply, his grin fading.

‘So you know what happened to me?’

‘Aye,’ he muttered, ‘I do. I heard every single damn stroke, every crack of that whip. Magus got me to rig up the byre with that electric light afore he came and got you. I was outside while it all happened, battling with myself what to do for the best. I ended up doing nothing. I been wanting to say to you ever since how bad I feel about it.’

‘No need for you to feel bad, sir. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘Well, it was partly, I’m sorry to say. ‘Twas me as told Magus about you riding Nightwing that day, when the Hallfolk gentleman was thrown and hurt hisself. Not to get you into trouble, you understand. I thought the master’d reward you. You showed great courage and skill riding that stallion back here to get help so quick. Anyhow, I feel bad that I told Magus, and for not coming to help you in your suffering.’

‘But you couldn’t have, not without disobeying Magus.’

‘Aye, well maybe I should’ve done. Starving you like that was
downright cruelty. ‘Tis not something I’d have believed of Magus, treating a Villager so bad. And as for that Alwyn … I tell you, if that man hadn’t been taken sick, I’d have done for him myself. All that bragging and boasting about what he done to you, every night down the pub. And I weren’t the only one to feel that way neither.’ Tom shook his grizzled head sadly. ‘No, I won’t forgive myself for not helping you, Yul. I could’ve got some food to you or something. Truth is, I were scared. And I’m ashamed of that.’

‘I never expected any help. Magus can’t be disobeyed.’

‘Aye, but if you’re ever in any trouble, you come to me, Yul. What the master did to you weren’t right and I feel I owe you. I won’t rest easy till I’ve made it up to you somehow.’

Yul looked at Tom speculatively and nodded.

‘Thank you, sir. I’ll remember that.’

‘So why are you here now, lad? You should be down the Village enjoying the holiday with all them other young folk, not up here working. What’ve you done this time?’

Yul shrugged, and Tom remembered the boy doing the same thing back in March, the last time he was sent here as a punishment.

‘Like that is it? Right, well you’ll have to put your back into it. We’re rushed off our feet with all them Hallfolk visitors wanting to ride every day. Half the daft buggers don’t know one end of a horse from t’other.’

He tossed Yul a pitchfork and the work began. By sunset Yul was exhausted, although he decided he’d much rather be down here in the stables with the horses than up in the confines of the Hall itself. The place made him uneasy and he hated any contact with the visiting Hallfolk. He resented being treated as a servant. How Harold put up with it he couldn’t imagine.

It was late that evening when Martin finally released Yul from his duties, with an admonishment to make sure he was back good and early the next morning. He trudged the distance back to his cottage wearily, ignoring the sounds of fun and merriment that drifted down the lane from the Village Green and Great Barn. The festivities would last all week, but Yul was far too tired
to get washed and changed and go down to join in. All the other Villagers who had to work during the holiday were given a rota, so they could at least take part in some of the fun. But Yul knew Magus wanted him kept hard at it all week long until it was time to return to his work in the woods with Old Greenbough.

Yul opened the door to his cottage and looked around. The place was as clean and tidy as ever, and his family nowhere to be seen. They must all be in the Barn, Yul decided. He breathed deeply and realised the dread he usually felt when coming home had completely disappeared. Except for one detail.

His mouth a hard line of bitterness, Yul went over to the door and tugged the hateful leather strap off its hook. Near it, hanging from a new nail in the wall, was the whip. Coiled like a malignant snake, it hung dark against the whitewashed wall. The leather handle was thick and solid, the plaited tail long and viciously thin. Shuddering as he forced himself to touch it, Yul pulled the snake-whip off the wall so violently that the nail was yanked from the plaster. He carried both instruments of punishment outside and laid them on the chopping block.

Taking a deep breath, he raised the axe above his head and swung it down hard. It felt good as the sharp blade sliced through the leather. He raised the axe again and again, overcome by a sudden destructive frenzy as the hated objects of pain and subjugation were chopped into ever smaller pieces. The memories swarmed in his head like angry wasps, the years of pain and humiliation reaching back as far as he could remember to when he’d been only a little boy. The strange light in Alwyn’s eye as he went on and on with the punishment; he’d never forget that particular look as long as he lived.

As the leather which had bitten so mercilessly into the soft skin of his back became a jumble of tiny pieces on the block, Yul found himself screaming with fury. He dropped the axe, his body heaving. Tears streamed down his flushed face as the rage overwhelmed him. He sank to the ground. Kneeling in the dust, he cried into his hands. Harsh sobs shook him, dragged out from the dark place where he’d locked them away for so long. All those
years of injustice and fear were released. Never again would he have to face Alwyn and his violence. Never again would his father brutalise him. A lifetime of abuse had finally come to an end.

Later, and a little calmer, Yul wandered down the long back garden. He looked at the masses of fruit and vegetables growing in the fertile soil, and peeped in at the dripping combs inside the beehives. Maizie tended their produce well. He thought of how much happier her life would be now, free from Alwyn and his cruel domination of the family. He wasn’t the only one who’d benefit from Mother Heggy’s magic.

Yul stooped and picked a few luscious strawberries, savouring the explosion of sweetness in his mouth. He thought instantly of Sylvie and felt the familiar tugging at his heart. She’d probably be in the Village along with everyone else at Stonewylde. Every cell in his body longed to go there right now and find her; to take her in his arms and smell her, feel her silky hair and smooth skin, drink her beauty with his eyes. And more than anything else in the world, he wanted to kiss her again. He’d been in a fever for her since their first kiss only two nights ago under the yew tree. But the Village was crawling with Hallfolk and Magus was everywhere. Yul couldn’t risk angering him at any cost.

He stormed out of the garden and down the lane, tears welling up again in a hot, angry flow. He loved Sylvie but how would they ever find a chance to be together? Now he must work every day at the Hall, he wouldn’t even get a glimpse of her during the holiday that everyone else was enjoying. How could Magus do this? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

Darkness had fallen and Yul skirted the Village and headed down to the river. He sat on the grassy bank watching the sparkling water as it flowed to the sea. He should’ve expected this. Had he really believed he’d get away with leaving the quarry? Or climbing onto the Altar Stone and taking the Earth Magic from Magus? He tried to swallow his disappointment at how the Midsummer Holiday was turning out, but his throat ached with tears and bitterness.